


Log 1785- a confession of sorts

by Gunsandwhiskey



Series: Red vs Blue fics i write at one in the fucking morning because i cant fucking sleep. [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, agent washington freeform, lavernius tucker freeform, michael j caboose freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-12 21:26:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12968736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gunsandwhiskey/pseuds/Gunsandwhiskey
Summary: This one is a bit messy, so I apologize about that.





	Log 1785- a confession of sorts

**Author's Note:**

> This one is a bit messy, so I apologize about that.

“It’s not that they weren’t weird. Because well they were. 

But they were a family. 

I mean, a ghost, a grieving father, and a brain-damaged kid could be a family right? 

They were just about all that they had left. To lose everyone they cared about must have been hard. They were broken, sure. They were tired. They were simply done. Done with everything. Done with losing, with fighting, with life in itself.

Broken. To think that they of all people were broken was a weird concept in itself

After their friend died for good they refused to shut back down. Sure they had their bad days, but could they really be blamed? They lost their leader, their friend, their comrade, their lover.

One of the two was doing a lot better than the other one was. Which was good in its own way, however in another way it meant that the other one was doing badly. 

Very badly and no one actually knew how to help him. No one except for the very person whom they were grieving. 

He had loved him. 

That’s the first thing I realized when I arrived. 

He had been the first person that he had loved. Or at least that's what he confessed to me one night when we both got particularly emotional. I admit it was strange, talking to him about feelings I mean. 

We spoke until the sun rose, then he proceeded to sleep until around eleven pm, which I allowed with no arguments or anger. After all, how could I be angry? How could I be angry after being told that the bright, happy, lucky, boy who shone like a star and who always tried to make others happy confessed to me that he himself was deeply heartbroken, would probably never enter a relationship again, and to top it off he was showing signs of depression? 

I know what depression is like. I wouldn't wish it on my greatest enemies, and most definitely not him. He doesn't deserve to hurt in that way. Then again a lot of people don't deserve things but the universe is a huge dick and likes to make the most innocent and sweet suffer until they become twisted empty shadows of what they used to once be.

I went up to his room more often. 

We always talked.  
Always about him and it always either ended in tears or with him falling asleep. 

I had to admit, I understood why he fell in love with this man. The man who literally radiated sunshine, along with the man who seemed to hate long-term relationships and enjoyed making sexual jokes and comments. They were just about opposites, but alike enough to keep the other in check. 

Sometimes when we talked he wanted me to talk about a certain someone, or he wanted to hear about my old friends, or he just wanted to know how the day was going, how everyone else was doing and how the weather was and if I thought ghosts were real and if his lover would be coming back anytime soon.

Some days I gave in and talked about my old life before meeting all of them. Before I myself lost my naivety and jolly cheerfulness and joking attitude. Back when I had to constantly look over my shoulder, back before things lost meaning and life seemed black and white. 

He would always listen so intently. He then would sometimes share stories about his brothers and sisters back on his home moon. Or he would share about his school life, or how people hated him or how he joined the army to make friends in cool different places, no definitely not to get away from the family that claimed a good gay was a dead gay.

I could understand that. It seemed like him and I actually had more in common than anyone had thought ever in the first place. 

Some days when he felt just good enough to get up, we would go and walk around and maybe run a drill just to stay in shape. 

One day he asked me why I always go and sit with him. Why I spend so much time with him. Why I never leave him alone. Why I haven't left him. And finally, will I leave him like Church. That one question there messed me up. I calmly explained my answers. 

I just wanted to spend time with him.

I just want to make sure that he's okay

He is actually a good friend and Church must have really enjoyed his company.

And for my last answer?

I always said no. I promised him that no, no I would not leave him all alone like so many others had in his past.

 

I am not sure when it happened. Maybe it was the way his eyes glowed and his voice was cheery. Maybe it was how he actually listened or how he actually gave me advice on how to be happy and not sad anymore. Maybe it was the fact that I had been so worried about him for so long. Or maybe it was simply how much time I had spent with him. 

I don't really know what it was. Or when it happened to be honest. 

All I know is that I too fell for him. It was an accident. It really was.” 

The man paused. His dirty blonde hair sticking to his face from the lack of washing it. He ran a hand through it and continued shortly after.

“This is Agent Washington, and this is entry 1785. This will be the last entry.”

He took a shaky breath. He was not sure what he was going to do now. Not now that the man that he had accidentally fallen in love with, took his own life, grieving for his dead lover. Maybe he would join him. After all, he was tired of losing people. Losing people he loved a lot, maybe too much as he had been told before. However that would leave the very last member of the original blue team all alone, and he really did not have the heart in him to be able to do that.

He left the room he had been in, but only because he heard a soft yell of his name and quiet sobbing. He quickly ran to the boy named Caboose’s room. He half expected to find Caboose on his bed holding his blankets cuddled up in them needing hugs and to be reconciled. However, he found tucker in there instead. 

He asked what he wanted and what he was doing in there, wiping all looks of hope off his face. 

He was holding a piece of paper. The tears still streaming down his face, although not at the same level before. He took the paper gingerly from him. He read it.

“Ps. agent washingtub, I know how you feel about me. And I like you as well. However, I like church and tucker more than you. (I'm sorry :))”


End file.
